Indiana Sunset
by infinite-repeat
Summary: "He's used to keeping his head down and his pen red. But Pawnee's been different." Ben's last day in Pawnee.


Everyone knows it's Ben and Chris's last day, but no one's really talking about it. There's a half-assed "GOODBYE PALS" banner draped across the conference room; Leslie had asked April and Tom to make one, resulting in an enlarged Word document in Comic Sans ("I like Comic Sans," Jerry had said, attempting to support them. "Well, we definitely should remake it now," Tom deduced.)

Ann had eventually confronted Chris about the whole Indianapolis thing, and the two decided to try out a long-distance relationship for a few weeks before making any definite decisions. It wasn't the happiest of arrangements, but they were at peace about it for the time being.

Ben's feeling kind of weird, though. It's not like this is the first town he came, saw, and budget-slashed, but it's the longest he's ever stayed at one. He's used to keeping his head down and his pen red. But Pawnee's been different.

Other than the banner, the day hasn't been special. There's a lot of work to do, just finalizing paperwork and typing up reports for the state. Ben worked straight through lunch, trying his hardest to ignore the hushed conversation he overheard Leslie having with Chris in his office.

"I can't even take him out for a piece of cake? It's the last day, Chris!"

But Ben had given him strict instructions. There was shit to get done. He needed to stop getting distracted... He spent too many days in Pawnee getting carried away in her smile and getting lost in that one corn maze for too long (he'll never hear "Marco!" yelled in a voice that isn't hers ever again) and he just really needs to buckle down. He has a job to do, and that job isn't falling for the deputy director of a random parks department.

_No_. He isn't falling for anyone.

But then again, this doesn't feel like a random parks department anymore.

He just can't deal with this now, even as he slides the last form into the last envelope and stacks them into a pile. Shit. Now it's just him and Pawnee and he won't be out of here for another twelve hours.

A part of him, bigger than he'd like to admit, really just wants to walk around town. Maybe check in on Ramsett Park one last time, say a last goodbye to JJ over a stack of flapjacks, watch the remains of the Harvest Festival get pulled away. (He won't know the full monetary results for a few days, but as far as he's concerned, Leslie's job is as good as permanent. If he's learned anything these past few months, that would be it.)

He has to control this, though. He's lost too much control. He's been feeling a little too free - like, Ice Town free - and that needs to be reeled in. But when he tries to walk past the parks offices without flinching, he catches sight of her golden curls through the door, and he gets that feeling he's still not used to - the one where he suddenly believes that a festival can save an entire town.

And in a way, it saved even more than that, so _maybe_... But Ben doesn't work with gray areas, if he can help it. Yes or no. _Yes or no. _

He decides to stop by.

"Ben!" she exclaims, and runs into her office right away with no explanation. He looks blankly around at everyone else, and they just stare at him with some kind of indifference. Ron nods his head toward the conference room; his face is kind of unreadable (as the mustache tends to make it), but Ben can tell he's trying to tell him something.

"Way to thank me for the sign, bro," Tom says sarcastically, patting Ben a little too hard on the back.

"Oh," Ben says, reading it. "Comic Sans... Nice."

"Dammit, Jerry!" Tom exclaims.

Leslie comes bouncing back out from her office, holding a plastic container.

"I got you a piece of cake! I remember you liked the chocolate that time we ate at the diner, so. Just something to remember Pawnee by. Until you eat it, I guess. Because then you won't really remember it. It'll be in your stomach... I should have gotten you a framed picture or something, so you could actually remember. Is it too late for that? I didn't think this through-"

He just stands there, watching her work this out in her mind, her enthusiasm turning into intense focus on something so arbitrary. He pretty much gets just as lost as she does when this happens, because she's fascinating to watch in all her odd quirks. He just... he really enjoys trying to figure her out, and he's pleasantly surprised every time.

But, really.

"Leslie?" He tentatively interrupts, waving his hand in front of her face. She snaps back, handing the cake to him with a bit of a blush.

"Sorry. But you do like this kind, right?"

"I do," he says, and really, he can't help but smile. It just happens. There are some things you can't fight. "Thanks... That was really sweet of you."

She just shrugs, and they're standing there kind of awkwardly. Everyone else is still at their desks, trying to look like they're not eavesdropping, but Ben can see the clock tick toward five on the wall.

"I guess that's that," he announces, forgetting not to sound so upset. Leslie gives him a lopsided smile that doesn't reach her eyes, and he can tell that she knows. She knows he isn't exactly happy about leaving. He hates that she knows. But he also likes it. This is weird.

"Catch you on the flip side," Tom says, grabbing his bag and heading out the door. April sort of waves, rolling her eyes. She's already texting Andy on her phone by the time she makes it out of the department. Jerry smiles, Donna nods.

"Well, this is it," Ron says, offering his hand. Ben cautiously takes it, not sure how to respond when Ron's looking at him like he knows something Ben doesn't. "You fixed the budget." Feelings aren't exactly Ron's strong point, and even if it's awkward, Ben's a little grateful for that. But then Ron's eyes are flashing over to Leslie quickly, and then back, and Ben finds himself ending the handshake.

"Um, so..."

It's just he and Leslie, who always ends up locking up every night. She's shuffling around like she doesn't really know what to do, and it makes him smile despite himself, and really he just finds himself smiling a lot more than usual around her. Around Pawnee in general.

He's, honestly, really going to miss this place.

But he can't do that right now.

"Last day," she says unnecessarily, but she's not really smiling anymore. She looks kind of lost. Like how Ben feels, but is trying so hard not to show on his face. He isn't supposed to feel like his heart's in his stomach right now. That's not his job.

"Yep," he says, and he's wondering how he's supposed to tie this up. It's losing someone he's come to consider a friend... or, well, something important.

She moves in, for what he isn't sure. In hindsight, probably a hug. But his mind short circuits, and he automatically blocks her by extending his hand for a handshake. She looks a little shocked, but recovers quickly and warmly takes his hand.

He's actually saying goodbye to Leslie Knope with a handshake.

He's a fucking idiot.

"Good luck in your next town," she says, and her smile is making him uncomfortable. He knows this isn't the right way to do this, and he can tell that she's thinking the same thing, but she's too nice to do anything about it. That's just like her. She probably just wants him to be happy, and maybe she thinks him leaving and moving on like nothing happened would make him happy.

But he wants to believe that she knows him better than that.

"Good luck here," he replies, and tries to somehow show that he means it. But he's still shaking her hand in this weird way, and she's gripping back, and her hand is warm and he doesn't really want to let go. But he does, because this is all getting strange, and he needs to stop it before he does something ridiculous. Maybe with some distance, this will feel easier.

"Keep in touch?" she asks, as he drops her hand. He nods. He awkwardly turns to go, but she calls out his name again. His heart is racing a little.

"You forgot your cake," is all she says, handing him the container. Ah. Calm down.

"Thanks, Leslie." Their hands touch briefly as he takes it, but he can't linger on that. He's got to get going.

;;

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

His suitcase is only half full before he's back in his rental car, driving back the way he came.

He passes City Hall, checking to see if there are any lights on. He wouldn't be surprised to see Leslie still working on something undoubtedly wonderful for the citizens, going way overtime and asking for nothing in return.

But the lights are off. He can't use a forgotten envelope or leftover work as an excuse, now. He's going to have to actually go to her house. He's going to have to admit more than he's ready for.

Maybe it's about time, though. Right?

He only has a vague idea of where her house is, as he was only there once for an "Emergency Festival Meeting" ("Code Red," she'd told him on the phone, and ignored him when he asked what the other colors would mean) and Chris had driven. He's squinting at addresses in the dark, trying to figure it out, when he recognizes her car in a driveway.

Now or never, really.

When he gets out of his car, he suddenly realizes that he has no game plan. What is he going to do, sweep her off her feet? With _what?_ He's knocking on her door with nothing in mind, and she's opening it and he's not sure what he's supposed to do.

"Ben?"

"Yeah, hi..." Smooth. Very smooth. Fuck.

"Shouldn't you be packing?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess. I did, sort of..." He kind of hates himself right now.

"Don't you leave in the morning?" She's really wide-eyed, and kind of hanging back by her door, and he feels bad, like maybe this is making her uncomfortable. He's starting to sweat a little.

"I'm supposed to." He pauses, thinks a second. "But I'm here."

Yeah, he's really just an idiot.

"I thought about calling you, actually." She stumbles over the words, looking a little more unsure, but a little more like Leslie. He's surprised.

"Really? You... did?"

"I didn't like the way we ended things-"

"That's my fault, really-"

"I should have gone with a framed picture-"

"No, that really isn't it, it's just-"

"I don't want you to forget Pawnee."

"I don't want to leave Pawnee."

They've been talking over each other, but he's heard every word, and now they're at a standstill. Even though it applies to Pawnee, Ben knows that's not what they're talking about. But he doesn't think Leslie realizes.

"Look," he says, after a long pause. "I'm really sorry. But I guess I just, uh, got a little more attached to things than I thought I would."

"I told you," she says, with a casual shrug (or as casual as she can manage), "Pawnee's special."

"It's not just Pawnee," he gets out, but he can't really produce any more words. He sees comprehension of some sort dawn behind her eyes, and fuck, too much? Too soon? There aren't rules for this type of thing.

"I'm gonna miss you," she says quietly. She's been kind of lingering inside, but she starts to move toward him. It's tentative, and he's rooted to the spot, waiting, but the closer she gets, the more he opens unconsciously.

She hugs him. Just curls herself around his middle, burrowing into him, and he can't do anything but wrap his arms around her. Christ, she just gets sweeter every time he's around her, and he actually can't take it.

"You too," he murmurs, but this is bad. He can't really let go. He doesn't want to break this, because when he does, he either goes for it or leaves. And the prospect of either kind of terrifies him.

"I just - I don't know." She's trying to find words, but he knows how this is hard, and he can tell that she's just coming to terms with what he's known for a while now but hasn't been able to handle.

He needs to do something. One of them needs to do something. This truce is killing him.

But it turns out he doesn't need to decide, because she's pulling away just a little, and then she's cupping her hand around his neck, and pulling him toward her, and he has his answer. Half the weight is off his shoulders, while meanwhile his hand's in her hair, her lips are way too soft, and he's struggling to breathe a little.

But she breaks it off, staring down at his chest to avoid looking at him. She looks like she's just figured things out, like she finally understands something, and god, he really just can't get himself to let go of her.

"Um-"

"Should you come in?" she asks, nervous. "Or I mean, do you want to?"

"Yeah, sure," he says, smiling. "I'm here, aren't I?" He forgets about anything else when she takes his hand and leads him in.

;;

He falls asleep on her couch, misses three calls on his cell phone, wakes up to her laughing. He doesn't think about his boss waiting for him in Indianapolis.

That doesn't really matter right now. What matters is homemade waffles, and bumping into each other awkwardly (but not in a bad way) while mixing the batter. Running out of whipped cream. Laughing when it gets all over his shirt.

"You're a mess!" she exclaims, giggling.

"Only here."


End file.
